And she was healed… but she wasn’t.

The Bible speaks so much about healing…. sight restored, the lame walked, diseases cured… bodies, minds, and spirits restored.  I’ve read the scripture that says whatever we ask for in His name will be given to us.  I’ve read the verses that say where two or more are gathered that HE is there.  I’ve listened to testimonies of miraculous healing.  I believe into the very depths of my being that HE can and HE does heal.

I’ve prayed selfishly, for my own healing.

I’ve prayed selflessly, for the healing of others.

I’ve fasted.  I’ve prayed alone. I’ve prayed in groups.  I’ve asked for intercessory prayer.  I’ve submitted names and requests to prayer chains.

17 years ago, we were attending a small church.  As part of every service we had a “pass the mic” prayer and share time.  We could share our praise and corporately request prayers over the struggles we faced.  Every Sunday we prayed for a young girl (now woman) in our church to be healed.  The next Sunday, they would push her wheel chair into the sanctuary.  Sunday, after Sunday…. after Sunday.

To this day, she has never walked.  She has not been healed.

All of those people praying, alone and in concert…. new believers and seasoned believers.  The Pastor, his wife, the elders, their wives. Her parents and siblings, friends and neighbors.  We prayed, we prayed hard, we prayed earnestly, we sought a God glorifying miracle.

She was not healed.

For those on the outside, I can see how they would question my faith.  If He was real, why would he not answer the prayers of all of these people?  If He was real, why wouldn’t he reveal himself by healing this child?  

The reason I don’t question my faith because she was not healed ( or any other number of prayer requests that have gone unanswered) is that I know that her story doesn’t end here, or even at her death.  I know that she will be healed, SOMEDAY.

It may not be today or tomorrow; it may not even be on this side of heaven… but she will be healed.  One day, her body will work perfectly.  One day she will run and play, she will sing and spin in circles, there will be no pain or discomfort.

Even now, so many years later, I think of her often…. and I rejoice in knowing that she still has someday ahead of her.

When I allow myself to be encouraged by what her “someday” will look like, I am comforted to know that I have a “someday” too.  So, my friend, do you.